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Damn. Damn. Damn.

Alex swallowed his pride and shifted his manhood away from her. “Nay. Howbeit it was naught against ye, lass. I didnae want to settle myself with any wife.” He silently reflected a moment. “After my father’s passing, Aunt Iseabail made me realize I needed to continue the MacDonell line. In order to accomplish that, I needed a wife. Your father offered your hand and I think the fates stepped in. MacKenzie or nae, ye are my wife, Ella. I am glad ’tis ye.”

For a moment, he sensed an odd twinge of disappointment and then she quickly masked her expression. “I donna know of anyone who would want to cause me harm. Ian didnae find anything?”

“He found the tree where the arrow struck, but there were nay signs of anyone besides the two of us. I donna know of any man who can cover his tracks without leaving a trace of something. It troubles me. Ye are well protected within the walls of Glengarry, lass. There is nay sense worrying upon it. And if ye take your leave from the castle, ye will have an escort.”

Sybella sighed. “Aye, but I donna like the idea of the stone walls closing in on me like a prisoner, trapped within my own home.”

“Until we find who is responsible for—”

“Taking aim at my head?”

“Cease your worried thoughts. ’Tis my responsibility to see ye safe. I will protect ye, Ella, and ye have naught to worry upon.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Aye?”

“My laird, there is a messenger at the gates.”

“I will be there in a moment,” said Alex.

He rose from the bed. As he grabbed his kilt from the floor, Sybella stood and straightened her dress. Her bonny locks were tousled and she looked…enchanting. They looked at each other and smiled in earnest.

Alex placed his hand on her shoulder in a possessive gesture. “I hope this time was much more pleasant for ye.”

Sybella flushed miserably. “It wasnae…unpleasant.”

He lifted her chin with his finger and his eyes narrowed. “It will only get better.” When she licked her lips, he gave her a kiss she would surely remember. “Ye donna have to stay within the walls, but donna leave the gates.”

As he walked toward the door, she called after him. “Alex, thank ye.” She wrung her hands. “I truly didnae think ye would want to kill me. At least, I hoped ye didnae.”

“Ella, we have only been wed a few days. Give me time.” A smile played on his lips and he closed the door behind him.

He walked into the bailey and approached the messenger.

“My laird, a message from Laird Ciaran MacGregor of Glenorchy,” the man said, holding out the missive.

Alex read the penned note and smiled. Aunt Iseabail would be pleased. Dismissing the messenger, Alex tapped the letter in his hand and went in search of his aunt. The last place he looked should’ve been the first. As he approached the garden, the sight before him was most definitely not what he had expected to see.

He stopped and watched his lady wife, who was down on all fours. She dug around the bottom of a bush and then rose to her feet, pulling at the dense branches. When the bush didn’t budge, Sybella squatted low to the ground and her legs encircled the unruly shrub. She tugged several additional times, and on the last attempt, she let out a loud moan and fell flat on her arse with the bush splayed in her lap.

Alex couldn’t control the rumble of laughter that escaped him. “I am betting the bush won,” he said as he approached her. He reached out and lifted the shrub, which had her pinned to the ground. He tossed the unruly plant to the side and then extended his hand to pull her up.

Of course when the lass fell to the ground, he couldn’t help but come to her rescue. Her tresses were tousled, and she had a smudge of dirt on her nose, cheeks, and forehead. About the only spots not covered in soil were her rosy lips. When her hazel eyes stared back at him, his heart hammered in his ears. He could’ve just stood there watching her—that was until Aunt Iseabail spotted him.

“Alexander, come and look what happened to my roses.” Aunt Iseabail pointed to the empty spot in the garden.

He carefully guarded his expression as he studied the dirt. “I am sure ye will find something else to plant there, Aunt.”

“I suppose, but I cannae believe my roses were destroyed by an idiot.”

A giggle escaped his wife, and she promptly turned her head away from him when he gazed in her direction. He needed to change the subject, fast.

“A messenger arrived from Glenorchy.”

Aunt Iseabail’s eyes lit up in surprise. “Glenorchy? And how are Rosalia and her bairn?”

“I donna know. Ye can ask her when she arrives within a sennight.”

His aunt clapped her hands and then embraced him. “Nephew, that is wonderful news. We must prepare for a bairn under our roof.”

Praise the saints. He knew it was coming. It should only take a moment.

“Speaking of which…”

And there it was.

To his surprise and gratefulness, his wife interjected. “Who is Rosalia?”

“My apologies. I should have explained,” said Alex. He walked over to Sybella and sat down beside her. “Rosalia is my cousin from Glenorchy. ’Tis a rather long tale. Are ye sure ye wish to hear it?”

“Aye, please continue.”

“A long time ago, Aunt Iseabail’s son left the Highlands and wed an English woman. This woman refused to wed him unless he agreed to live in England. At the time, he thought he truly loved the lass and gave up everything—his clan and wealth—and moved to Liddesdale, which is between the English and Scottish borders.

“They had one daughter, Rosalia. Lady Caroline Armstrong, Rosalia’s mother, had a taste for treasures that were beyond her means. So much, in fact, that the clan coffers were emptied by her lavish spending. In order to replenish the coin, Rosalia’s parents arranged for her to wed an unsavory English lord. My cousin simply refused and they beat her horribly for her insolence.”

Intense astonishment touched Sybella’s pale face. “That is terrible.”

“Rosalia took matters into her own hands and fled Liddesdale. With only her mount, she was trying to reach Aunt Iseabail here in Glengarry.”

Alone? Through the Highlands?”

“Aye. Laird Ciaran MacGregor of Glenorchy found her and offered her protection. The MacGregor was to escort Rosalia to Glengarry and he did—only to be wed. The two of them were clearly a love match, and my cousin’s bairn is almost a year old now.”

“Alexander, is that all ye’re going to tell the lass? What about your daring rescue?” asked Aunt Iseabail.

Apparently, out of all Aunt Iseabail’s ailments, her hearing was unaffected. “Sybella doesnae need to hear it.”

His wife winked at Aunt Iseabail and smiled. “Come now, Husband. I would love to hear of your daring rescue.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement.

He rolled his eyes. “It wasnae that daring.” Alex turned his head over his shoulder at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Pardon the intrusion, my laird. There is a MacKenzie at the gates.”

Ten

Sybella followed her husband into the bailey. Her bond with Colin was strong. Perhaps her brother had sensed her initial unease and come to her rescue after all. She would be sure to tell him his concern was unwarranted. But as she approached the man standing in the bailey, her mind spun.

She walked hurriedly to the MacKenzie man’s side and reached out her hand in a comforting gesture. “Dé th’ann? Ennis?” What is it? “What has happened?”